What I Learned From Watching My Son Fail

Nothing on the planet is as humbling as parenthood, especially when you realize you’re botching it.  My journey to greater humility came from watching my son fail, and it was only then that I realized I was failing too.  Those we live with and share life’s messiness all too often see our faults and misguided notions before we do, such was the case with my prideful parenting.

Shortly after moving to Huntington, our youngest child and only son joined an archery team.  He quickly showed natural talent and ended up doing well in competitions. I was on a road trip to Metropolis, IL, with Isaiah when a text message from my husband ended up being prophetic.  No, it wasn’t some mother/son adventure to pay homage to the home of Superman, but rather, I was taking him to compete in a national archery tournament, in which he had high expectations of performing very well. After all, Isaiah is a natural! Just six weeks after starting the sport he won first at regional level competition and went on to place in the top three at the Indiana state level.  He competed in indoor nationals, earning 6th place against kids several years older than him. Outdoor season started, and the medals and accolades continued to build up.

Isaiah is only 8, and he’s literally the youngest one can possibly be in his class. In Indiana August 1st is the kindergarten cut off, which is also the day of his birth. Since one has to be in third grade to participate in S3DA archery, it bolstered my pride in my son even more to see him achieve such success against kids up to age 11.

As outdoor nationals approached, I found myself asking Micah, “What are we going to do if Isaiah actually places at Nationals?” Now, let me just say how I deeply love Micah’s answer because that man keeps me grounded and even keeled when he dishes out accountability that helps me grow. His response was, “Well, you’re going to post about it on Facebook and tell the world.  You’ll get 67 comments and 232 likes, and in two days no one will care, but we will have a memory to treasure.” I was quite taken aback by this odd response, but I realize now that my husband was seeing unhealthy pride in me that needed sifting.

The competition in Metropolis would reveal the depth of my need for sifting. It’s not coincidental that the iMessage, “What we worship is what we share with others,” lit up my phone on the way to this match. Micah and others, I’m sure, were growing weary of my boasting about my son. All my family and Facebook friends were anticipating positive results from the weekend. I had boasted about my kid for days. After all, he WAS a natural, and aren’t we SUPPOSED to be proud of our kids? All this hoopla I was spreading made me a good mom, right? Maybe, not so much.

Well, let’s just say the tournament didn’t go so well; but, since I am working on authenticity here, I’ll be frank: Isaiah did terrible. When he got to the practice line he saw the competition was intense, and the boys in his division had better experience and better equipment. Isaiah quite simply choked. On the first day of the tournament he shot 35 points below his average, even missing five targets completely. I thought surely on day two he would snap out of his funk and fling those arrows straight. But, it just didn’t happen. Again, he missed five targets, and had the most epic emotional meltdown on the course that one could ever imagine. I was embarrassed, and I was disappointed, though my disappointment didn’t stem from his performance and score, but rather his behavior.

I couldn’t leave the facility fast enough because my son and I had to have a talk, a looong talk, and the six hour drive home would provide more than enough opportunity. Watching my son fail reminded me anew of some important truth and brought several fresh lessons as well.

Lesson one: The talent of my children has NOTHING to do with me. It’s not some magic parenting strategy that made my son a good archer, but simply grace; that’s it. God decided to design Isaiah to be an athlete. God made him that way, not me. God ALLOWED him the health and the ability to compete. I realized on the trip I was living vicariously through Isaiah’s success and making it my own.  You see, I really wasn’t good at anything when I was a kid, and I really really wanted to be. I coveted the natural athletes, the brainy kids, the popular ones. Nothing came easily for me, so it brought about a sense of unhealthy pride in my soul because I was getting to live my dream through my kid—my dream of being the best at something. This mentality is very dangerous, and often places crippling pressure on children, if not detected and dealt with early.

Lesson two: As a parent, how we help our children navigate through failure can have a lifelong impact on their character. I reminded Isaiah that his identity is not as an archery champion, but as a child of God. He is precious in God’s sight when arrows hit the bull’s eye AND when arrows hit the dirt. Performance in a competition does not define whom my son is and whom he will be. Even as I write this, I smile remembering the grin of sheer relief that lit up his tan little face when he allowed that truth to sink into his heart.

Lesson three: It matters not if one succeeds or fails; it matters how one treat others when he succeeds or fails. I explained to Isaiah that I was not concerned with his score, but when I heard him sass another boy who was shooting well that day instead of offering encouragement, THAT was when my heart sank and disappointment filled my chest. Failure will happen, but the victors deserve GENUINE congratulations. We must maintain an attitude of love toward others, even to those who defeat us.

Lesson four: (this one was a hard one to swallow) Our children, no matter how talented, cannot become an idol in our lives—mine did. I realize now that for several months, every time I got the opportunity, I boasted about my son. I bragged and bragged and made Waaay too many Facebook posts. God desires a heart of gratitude and humility, and I displayed neither. I am ashamed.

But, as Isaiah looks forward to redeeming himself next year and performing better at Nationals, I look forward to setting the balance right in my heart—the perfect balance of being proud of my kiddo, but knowing that “every good and perfect thing is from above.” I look forward to doing a better job of ridding my life of idolatry, and loving Jesus more than my kids, loving Jesus more than attention from social media and the world. I so desperately want to get this parenting thing right. I want my son to know I’m proud of him, but at the end of the day, archery isn’t what matters—character does.

And, I’m ever so grateful for the gentle accountability given by my husband: “Something for us all to ask ourselves: What we worship is what we share with others.”